The year is 500 AC. In the wake of the Bronze Age, several cultures are now developing iron. The West Eurasians of Lamikan seek to survive and expand their culture, and another West Eurasian tribe, the High Lordship of Arukadar seeks power and glory. Yet another West Eurasian group of peoples, the Dynastic People's of the Seestein Clan have set their eyes west. The Proto-Iranian nation of the Akkadian Empire has sprung up in the south, seeking a powerful Middle Eastern Empire. In the North, Megafauna Hunting North Asians have created a number of city states, collectively known as the Rus. The greatest two cities, Kiev and Moskva are in an eternal state of warfare while several other cities have banded together to form the shady organization of Black Shield. Negrito nations have also begun to form, such as the Kingdom of Inodey, who seek to reclaim their Holy Land. The Atlantic nation of Tyris hungers for Italy, the Balkans and Anatolia. A great Proto-Iranid state in the south, the Media Kingdom has appeared, seeking territory in the Rus. An Atlantic nation known as Belgae seeks to expand their religion, and become an economic superpower. And another Atlantic nation, the Clan Domain of Ureierum attempts to survive and unite their people. So begins the Epic of the Days of Late Antiquity of the Neolithic.
Northern Front, The Rus
In a wooden building, there was an ax. Not a woodcutting ax, that snaps upon armor, nor an executioner's ax, as unwieldy as it is. No, it was a war ax, designed to cleave through Moscovite armor and it was carried by General Zaharchuk of the Kieven Rus. "Damn cold today." Colonel Petrov shivered. "It's cold for them too." Zaharchuk said. He pocketed his ax in a special sheath on his leg, next to his scabbard, carrying his mighty sword, Skorb'a. Snow fell lightly around the fort. Three cossacks rode with the streltsy. "What's for dinner?" Major Vinov asked. "Borscht and goblusti." Zaharchuk said. Groans were heard all around. "I also got my hands on some rabbit meat." He added. "Well, it's better than normal." Petrov shrugged. "Break's over. We've got an enemy fort three kilometers north." Zaharchuk had the direction of the North Star memorized by heart, even if it was too overcast that night to see it. The team drew their weapons and headed out.
Urals
"Tovarisch?" A cautious voice inquired. "It's me Misha." Lieutenant Kolinski sighed. "Ah!" The two cossacks rode out, with many more in the mountains. "This is stupid. We don't even know if they're out there." Kolinski complained. "The Southerniks are out there. They fled over the mountains in the last war." Mikhail Zharkov said. "Come on Nadya." He patted his horse's neck. "Let's keep at it." The snow fell thickly, and the wind screamed above them. All was cold in the Rus that night.
